


Take Us Back

by sugarbeanss



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, UKUS, ukxus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-10 15:46:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19908199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarbeanss/pseuds/sugarbeanss
Summary: Zombie Apocalypse AU - Alfred's been surviving in Virginia for years now since shit hit the fan, but he dreams for a place where he can live instead of just survive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! I know this is probably a dead fandom by now, but I've been craving UKUS lately and this idea's been rattling around in my head for months, so I figured why not? Inspired by TWD, the show and the game, I might've reused some scenes and quotes from it.

The water made a loud splash as Alfred shoved his spear through the ripples of the current. The fish he was aiming for got away however, and he huffed in a mixture of anger and disappointment. How was he getting even worse at fishing?

“Shit.”

“Are you even aiming for the fish?” Matthew quipped, the corners of his lips turning up in slight amusement.

Alfred smiled back at him for a moment before turning his attention back to the creek. It would’ve almost been fun, if his stomach wasn’t twisting uncomfortably from hunger. They had ran out of canned and dry goods 4 days ago, and hadn’t eaten in 2. Alfred was hungry enough to eat dog food at this point. Or an actual dog. Yikes. “Ha. At least you still have your glasses.”

He saw Matthew roll his eyes, then rub his upper stomach a few moments later. “Alfred, if we don’t find some food soon...”

“Hey! Don’t get all glum on me now. We’ve done this before, right?” Alfred grinned toothily, standing up and wiping his hands on the thighs of his dirty, slightly damp jeans. He was worried too, but he needed to look confident for his little brother, after all!

Matthew looked over at him with eyebrows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of rustling in the bushes behind them. Both of them dropped their spears and spun around, hands already on the hilts of their blades. For a moment, Alfred couldn’t hear anything but his own breathing and his heartbeat drumming against his ribs, until a decomposed arm shot out of the bush and gripped the dirt, fingers twisting in an unnatural way.

“I got this,” Alfred said, pulling his knife out of the holster on his hip. A human corpse pulled itself out from the foliage, baring its yellow and black teeth and growling at them like an angry 60 year old smoker. As it pulled itself closer to them, Alfred noticed that the zombie was only a torso, and it was trailing rotting blood and viscera behind it. Ew. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen one like that, but the second smell hit his nostrils he almost puked. Of course he didn’t, he wasn’t even sure he had anything in his stomach _to_ puke. He shook off his disgust and stomped on the rotting hand that was reaching for his boot before bending over and driving his blade into the thing’s skull. The zombie stopped moving and groaning after that, his head flopping back on the ground when Alfred retracted his blade. Ha, at least that made his hunger fade a little bit.

Matthew didn’t react, probably used to the sight by now. Instead, he turned back to the creek. Alfred noticed he was quiet. Even quieter than usual. Alfred frowned. He knelt down next to his brother and draped an arm over his shoulders. “Let’s just head back to the cabin, huh? We have enough fish for tonight.”

Matthew cast his gaze down, but leaned into his brother’s touch. “And then what? We’ll just starve again. There’s barely any fish in the creek, the zombies keep eating the game in our traps, and we’re out of all the canned stuff.”

Alfred frowned and removed his arm from Matthew’s shoulders. He hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest. He was used to dealing with problems as they came along, instead of worrying about what was gonna happen. His brother was the exact opposite, constantly worrying and trying to plan around what was happening, what was going to happen, and what might happen. Matthew seemed to notice his forlorn expression because he grabbed his spear again and harshly drove it into the water. No catch. Matthew groaned in frustration.

Alfred’s felt his heart squeeze, as it did every time he saw his brother like this. He pulled himself together, plastering a grin on his face and putting his hands on his hips. If Matthew didn’t want to give up, then he wouldn’t either. “Alright! We’ll fish for another hour, okay?”

Matthew nodded, not looking up from the creek. Alfred tried to focus on fishing too, but he kept thinking, uh, thoughts. Bad ones. He still couldn’t shake the memory of the first day all this had happened from his mind.

WHACK!

Alfred’s Louisville slugger connected with the baseball, sending it flying across the baseball diamond. Hell yeah! The crowd erupted in a combination of clapping and cheering. It was the last game of the high school freshman year, and Alfred was feeling especially confident tonight. Or lucky. Or both. Their team had won almost every game this year, and it looked like this game wasn’t any different. It was the ninth inning, and they were still ahead. He watched the ball zip across the air for a moment before sprinting to first base. His calves and arms were burning and aching all over, but that didn’t stop him from grinning and running as fast as his legs could carry him. He slid into last base, earning another loud cheer from the crowd. He absolutely loved that feeling. Alfred looked toward the bleachers, his eyes scanning the crowd for his mom and brother. He found them, his mom was waving and cheering and Matthew was giving him two thumbs up.

He was glad they won, but a little bummed that his coach wasn’t there to see. He left during the fifth inning, claiming he had a family emergency. Relative in the hospital or something. Whatever, he could still go home and celebrate with Matthew with movies and snacks. He bent over to pick up his bat when he heard the crowd start to mumble nervously. He looked over to Matthew and saw the confused and worried expression on his face before he pointed towards the corner of the field and shouted something.

Alfred glanced over and saw his coach walking towards the baseball diamond like he was drunk or something. Huh? What was he still doing here? He began to walk towards the limping man. “Hey, what happ-” He couldn’t finish his sentence before his coach lunged at him with an animalistic growl, knocking Alfred off his feet. The coach snapped his jaw a centimeter away from Alfred’s face, almost taking a chunk out of nose. “WHAT THE FUCK?!!” Alfred screeched, pushing on his shoulders to keep the snapping jaws away from his face. The coach’s body was cold. Alfred’s heart was racing, his arms nearly too weak to push him off after working so hard just a few moments earlier. Alfred noticed his eyes looked different. They were milky and hollow. Dead. “What the _fuck_...” He gathered the rest of his strength and pushed the man off him and scrambled to his feet. The crowd was screaming at this point, half of them scrambling off the bleachers and the other half whipping out there phones to record the scene. What. The Actual. _Fuck?_

The coach got up again, his bones cracking in a way that made Alfred want to dry heave. “D-Dude, if this is a stupid zombie prank, it’s not funny anymore...” He said, putting his hands up and backing away. The body in front of him didn’t even acknowledge what he said, in fact, it lunged at him again. Alfred took a quick step back, barely avoiding getting tackled again. Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but a hand grabbed the back of his jersey and pulled him away. Shit, shit, shit, not again! He swung around and raised his fist to attack whoever grabbed him.

“Woah! It’s me!” Matthew said, eyes wide. He gripped both of Alfred’s shoulders. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get out of here.”

Alfred was hyperventilating, his shoulders trembling under his brother’s grip, no doubt due to adrenaline. He turned his head and looked back to the coach. He was limping towards the bleachers. “No way! We have to call the police! He’s got rabies or something, dude, he almost fucking bit me!”

As if on cue, a blood curdling scream filled the evening air. It sounded familiar. Alfred turned around and the sight that greeted him made his heart drop to his stomach. More of the things that looked and moved like his coach had gotten onto the field and were all limping towards the bleachers. One of them had pinned Alfred and Matthew’s mom – who must’ve run onto the field to chase after her sons – to the ground and had - oh, _god_ \- ripped her intestines out with its hands.

He couldn’t process it for a second. Like the world had stopped moving or something. This had to be a nightmare, one of those really fucked up ones that felt so real and left you waking up in a cold sweat. That had to be it. But no matter how much Alfred told himself to wake up, pinch himself, or even to just fly away, he didn’t wake up. Alfred choked out a sob and lurched forward to save his mother, but Matthew held him back by his shoulders.

“Al, we have to leave, NOW!” Matthew ordered, and damn if hearing his usually soft spoken shout like that didn’t snap him out of it. Alfred finally nodded, trying to stifle his sobs as he picked up his bat and followed Matthew to the parking lot. It seemed like hours before they finally found their mom’s car, and Alfred hopped in the passenger seat and slammed the door while his brother got behind the wheel. Good thing they both just finished drivers ED. Alfred was way too shaken up to drive right now, anyway. He wondered why Matthew wasn’t…

“Matt...” he started, watching his brother start the car and begin to drive away. “How the hell are you so damn calm? Do you even realize what just happened?!”

Matthew didn’t answer at first, but Alfred noticed his grip on the steering wheel tighten. “Lets just get back to the house.”

Alfred frowned, not very pleased with that answer. He...he needed to talk. Or cry. Or yell. Or beat something with his bat, probably the corpse that just killed his mom. Alfred’s face scrunched up and he started sobbing again at the thought of his mother. He felt Matthew’s eyes on him, then a tentative but comforting touch on his back.

As soon as they stepped into their house Matthew stopped with his back turned to Alfred. Alfred swore he saw his shoulders tremble.

“Matt-”

His little brother turned around, eyes red and big tears sliding down his cheeks. Alfred didn’t have time to react before Matthew practically jumped on him, wrapping his slender arms tight around his chest

Alfred immediately hugged him back, holding him up so he wouldn’t collapse on the floor and let his brother sob into his shoulder. Oh... Matthew gripped the back of his jersey so tightly Alfred thought he might rip the thin material.

They’d spent the rest of the night laying together on Alfred’s bed, too scared to sleep and too scared to be alone.

Well, that was nearly four years ago. Lots of people had died since then, but Alfred’s mom was the first person who he was close with that died. Probably why he couldn’t just repress the memory and move on.

“Al, please focus. I saw at least 3 of them swim right past you.”

Alfred blinked. “Sure thing, dude.” he chirped, focusing his sight on the creek again. His stomach growled loudly, and he could almost hear it begging for him to eat something. Just a couple more fish, that’s all they needed, then they could go back and cook a decent sized meal.

They managed to catch one more before calling it. Um, maybe a little too late, since the sun was already setting.

“Let’s stay out here, we can sleep in shifts. Too dangerous to travel back at night.” Matthew said as he nudged the spears into a bush with his boot, storing them for the next time they came out to fish.

“Um, what?” No way they were spending the night in the woods! The scary woods that were even scarier than getting chomped by a zombie. Alfred repressed a shudder just thinking about it. “Hell no, let’s just go back. We can make it.”

“Its a two and a half mile hike, Al.” Matthew argued. He faced Alfred with his arms crossed. “We can’t make it back before dark. Its safer to just set up camp.”

“Haha, that’s debatable. Besides, we got flashlights.” Alfred had his mind made up. He slung his backpack (which smelled like fish, gross) over his shoulders before handing Matthew his. He guessed the glare he received was meant to be menacing, but it kinda just looked cute to Alfred. He groaned impatiently. “C’monnn, trust me, it’ll be fine.”

Matthew sighed and finally grabbed his backpack. Phew.

Well, Matthew was right. They weren’t even halfway there before they had to use the flashlights. Alfred could almost hear the “I told you so”. He didn’t care, he was too hungry and too eager to get back, eat, and sleep.

“Remember the week after we left the house for good?” Matthew said quietly. “When we slept by the lake?”

Alfred snorted. He remembered them waking up at noon, cooking in the Virginia sun covered in dirt and bug bites. To be fair, that happened only a month after the dead started walking, they weren’t exactly Bear Grylls yet. “Yeah, dude. Sucked.”

“Feels like forever ago...” He sounded dejected.

Alfred frowned for a moment. It was forever ago. “Aw, gettin’ wistful on me now?” he teased, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Asshole.” Matthew countered, but Alfred could hear the smile in his voice.

“Dickhead.”

They walked a little longer until Alfred noticed he couldn’t hear footsteps behind him. “Hey, we don’t have ti-”

“Shh! Shut up a second. Turn off your flashlight.”

Alfred did as he was told, turning back to his brother. Matthew had his knife drawn and was peeking into a clearing in the woods. “What?

“Look.”

Alfred directed his gaze to whatever the hell Matthew was looking at and squinted. The moonlight was enough for him to sort of see, but it was hard without his glasses. He kept squinting until he figured his brother was just trying to scare him. He was about to give him a playful punch to the shoulder when he heard it.

Growling. And lots of it. Alfred looked again and saw a few corpses a few hundred feet away from them, coming out of the clearing. Then more came out. And more. “Shiiiit, we gotta run. Like, right now.”

“No, they’ll follow us right back to the cabin.”

“Okay, do you wanna sit here and get eaten instead?” Seriously, what did his brother expect to do? Running was clearly the only option.

“Just let me think for a second.” Matthew whispered. Alfred stared at him expectantly, crossing his arms over his chest. They really didn’t have time for this, he was _not_ about to get caught up in a damned herd. “Alright, alright, I have an idea, but you aren’t gonna like it.”

“What?”

“So…remember how we got through that herd in Waynesboro?”

Alfred just stared at him for a moment before it dawned on him what Matthew wanted to do. They got through the horde in Waynesboro by – wait for it - smearing their entire bodies in zombie guts. Alfred had to admit it was pretty cool (and terrifying) how they could walk right through the horde of zombies if they covered their scent. But, God, the smell could knock even the toughest plumber off his ass. He remembered him and Matthew puking their guts out and burning their clothes almost as soon as they got away. “Hell no, dude. Fuck no, I’m not doing that ever again. These are my last pair of jeans.”

Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, man, but this is the safest option. We walk with them a while, then break off, that way we can’t lead them back to the cabin.” Alfred opened his mouth to counter, but his twin cut him off. “Al, please, listen to me just this once. Please.”

Alfred groaned in defeat. Dammit. He couldn’t say no when he begged like that. “Fine, but you owe me some new jeans.”

They made quick work killing one of the dead ones, pulling it back behind a large tree to avoid drawing attention from the herd. Matthew knelt over the corpse and drew his knife, positioning it above the zombie’s abdomen. Alfred saw him shudder before he plunged his knife in deep and began to tear the flesh open. Jesus H. Christ, this was the most barbaric shit ever. And there was that freaking smell. Alfred would make out with a zombie head if it meant he would never have to smell that awful smell ever again.

“Hokay, lets do this.” Matthew whispered. It sounded like he wasn’t breathing through his nose. Probably a good idea. They both reached their hands in the slit Matthew had made and starting scooping up rotten, nasty guts and smearing it all over their clothes.

“Oooh my fuckin’ god, dude, I’m never doing this again.” Alfred gagged. Even with him breathing through his mouth he could still smell it. Taste it even. He thought he heard Matthew dry heave, too. Ha! Serves him right.

They got good and covered, even smearing some blood on their face (Alfred almost got some in his mouth...) as well before they’d finally had enough. Time to walk with the zombies.

It wasn’t any easier the second time walking through a herd, especially when Alfred could barely see a damn thing. Matthew took the lead, Alfred trailing close behind him. He tried to control his breathing, and he swore the pounding on his heartbeat would be enough to draw attention. “Okay, act like a zombie, think like a zombie, become the zombie.” Alfred thought to himself. It didn’t really help.

They walked a couple more miles with the herd, and Alfred had almost tripped four different times. Maybe plowing through the herd with his shoulders wasn’t the best strategy. Matthew worked with a lot more finesse, weaving between bodies and only bumping shoulders with the things when it was necessary. Jeez, the things were ugly up close. It was almost like their skin was melting off their faces! And those eyes, oh, Alfred had seen at least a thousand pairs of those eyes but a shudder still ran down his spine every time he looked at them. Cold and empty.

Caught up in his own thoughts, Alfred didn’t realize Matthew wasn’t in his line of sight anymore. Shit. Should he call out?

“Matt!” he whispered, earning himself a few head turns from the corpses walking in front of him. Oops. Thankfully it wasn’t enough for them to turn around and sink their teeth into Alfred’s flesh.

Matthew didn’t respond, but Alfred heard a thump, like a body falling on the forest floor. Shit. Shit, _shit_. He walked a little faster, gently pushing his way further into the herd when he saw Matthew standing up. His eyes were wide and he looked a bit shaken. Next to his feet laid a zombie. Dead. Did he kill it? It was practically a miracle that he didn’t draw attention from the herd.

He stepped closer to whisper to Alfred. “I-I tripped. Let’s go, I think we’re far away enough to break off now.”

Alfred nodded. Finally.

They managed to stray from the herd without much trouble. Alfred had to admit, his brother might’ve been right. If they had ran, the herd would’ve followed them right back to the cabin. Instead, they were heading the opposite direction. Even if the walk back to the cabin was gonna be a helluva lot longer. They probably wouldn’t make it back before the sun rose.

They'd been walking for what felt like another couple hours before Alfred spoke up, the silence making him slightly uncomfortable. “Nice work, dude. I, um. ‘M sorry for doubting you back there.”

Matthew didn’t respond. Maybe he was tired?

Alfred reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Uh. You good?”

Matthew stopped, and Alfred saw his fists clench then relax. It kinda reminded him of the night of the baseball game. His little brother averted his gaze. “I, uh. I need to tell you something. But you can’t freak out, okay?”

Uh oh. He didn’t like the sound of that. “What, is there another herd I should know about? I’m not takin’ another gut bath.” he grinned, hoping that would get his brother to lighten up a little.

Matthew shook his head. He shook his backpack off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. Alfred was getting impatient. And worried. It was like his brother was about to confess he stole and lost his Pokemon cards or something. Matthew pulled up the bloodied (wait, was that fresh blood?) sleeve of his jacket and what he said next made Alfred wish he’d only stolen his stupid, old Pokemon cards.

“...I got bit.”

And there it was, a nasty looking purple bruise with a bloodied bite mark on his forearm.

Alfred’s vision blurred. His stomach twisted in something other than hunger. There was no way his brother was bit. Not him, he was the toughest guy he knew. It had to be a joke, a sick and twisted joke.

No. No fucking way.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Alfred was shrugging off his backpack and pulling out his ax. There was no way he was gonna lose his brother. Not him. Anyone but him. “We have to cut it off.”

Matthew laughed the saddest, most unconvincing laugh Alfred had ever heard. “We don’t even know if that works, even if it did, there’s no point.”

Alfred quickly rose to his feet and marched towards him, ax in hand. Who cared?! They had to at least try! “Bullshit ‘there’s no point’! If there’s even a chance it’ll save you, I’m doing it.”

“You don’t get it.” He sounded exhausted. Alfred studied his features and noticed he was getting paler by the minute. Matthew tilted his head and tugged the collar of his shirt, exposing his neck. There lay another bite, just as painful looking as the last, between the end of his neck and his shoulder.

Fuck.

Alfred dropped his ax with shaking fingers. He stared at him for a few moments, dumbfounded. “Matt...” His heart felt like it was going to fly out of his chest. There...there really was no way to save him.

The reality of it all came crashing down on Alfred and he dropped to his knees, leaning against the nearest tree as sobs wracked his entire body. He wanted to lash out, throw things, kick something, anything to stop his heart from feeling like it was collapsing in on itself, but no matter how hard he tried, his body wouldn’t allow him to do anything other than tremble and sob. This was definitely a nightmare, he _needed_ it to be. All of this had to be a nightmare, and he would wake up in his old room in his old bed, and his mom would be alive and everything would be fine. Right?

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wake up.

After what felt like eternity, Alfred felt warm arms wrap around his shaking body, hands brushing sweaty hair away from his forehead, and a voice murmuring in his ear. “It’s alright, Al.” Was he shaking too? Alfred couldn’t tell.

He felt pathetic like this, blubbering into his brother’s shoulder and gripping the back of his jacket like it was a lifeline or something. He was supposed to protect him, and he couldn’t even do that. Fuck, why didn’t he just listen to Matthew in the first place and stay in the woods? Then all this would’ve never happened and, and - “How can you even say that to me like you didn’t just get chomped?”

Matthew pulled away, but brought his hand up to Alfred’s face to wipe his tears. Alfred could now tell he was trembling too. His heart ached. “This is what always happens, right? We both knew it would happen to one of us at some point.”

Alfred couldn’t help but scoff. Sure, but...it was just too soon. He thought they would find a nice settlement and grow old before anything like this happened. Stupid. He was about to say something, but noticed Matthew struggling to stay upright. God, it really was real... Instead, he stood up and eased his brother so he could sit and lean against the tree.

Alfred reached into his backpack and handed him his trusty canteen – half full. “Here.”

Matthew hesitated, but eventually grabbed it and downed the whole thing in five seconds flat. “Thanks...” he mumbled, wiping the water from his chin. That seemed to help, but he was still looking so pale, and it looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Dammit, it was happening fast.

Alfred’s head started spinning again. How was this even gonna play out? Was he going to have to leave him behind? His heart clenched again. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he did. He knelt down in front of his brother, mustering a serious look. “What do you need….um…what do you want me to do?”

Alfred watched him chew his lip. He let out a trembling sigh before saying, “You need to shoot me.”

He had anticipated that answer, but still, that didn’t make it any less painful. Could he even do it? Shoot his own brother? Even if it was a mercy kill, it still didn’t sit right with him. “I….I dunno if I can, Matt.”

“Please, Al,” his voice cracked, making Alfred want to reach out and hug him. “Please, I just want this to be over. I-I don’t want to be one of them.”

Alfred watched his brother cry, and realized he was being selfish. Matthew was scared, and all Alfred could think about was himself. He reached out, resting one hand on Matthew’s shoulder and using the other to wipe away his tears. “Okay. I’ll do it. You can count on me.”

Alfred saw him breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

They sat there together for a few minutes longer, Alfred managing to make him laugh a few times as they chatted about things that happened before all this crazy shit. It almost felt normal. Almost. But the impending doom of what was about to happen sat in the back of Alfred’s mind, waiting to rear its ugly head. When Matthew became to slip in and out of consciousness, Alfred called it. They couldn’t wait any longer.

“...Are you ready?”

Matthew laughed weakly, his head leaned against the bark of the tree and his eyes closed. “No…but I guess it’s time, huh?”

Alfred chewed his lip. That kinda made him have second thoughts, but he shook them off. His brother probably wasn’t coherent at this point. This is what Matthew wanted – no, what he needed him to do. “Yeah…but I’m gonna be right here, okay?”

Matthew tried to nod, but kinda just drooped his head forward. Shit.

Alfred nervously clenched his fists, trying to muster up some courage. Fuck, he still wasn’t ready. Still, he shakily pulled his 9mm from its holster.

“Hold on...one more thing.” Matthew slurred, but held his head up and opened his eyes to look at Alfred with a stare that made his knees quiver. “If you don’t start thinking before you act, ‘M gonna come back and haunt ya.”

Alfred shivered. “You will, huh?”

“Sure will.” Matthew smiled. “I love you, Al.”

Alfred knelt down in front of him, managing to muster up a wide grin, despite just wanting to just cry until he couldn’t produce any more tears. “I love you too, Matt.”

Matthew closed his eyes again, relaxing his body against the tree. Okay, it was now or never.

Alfred’s mind and body screamed at him to stop, but Alfred still took the safety off his gun, and pressed it to his brother’s temple.

“I’m sorry, brother.” Alfred said, and pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I didn't really expect the first chapter to be this long. Sorry if it feels choppy and rushed, I haven't really written anything like this in 4 years. If Matt seems OOC, that's kinda just how I interpret him. Alfred's too impulsive to lead them on his own, and I headcanon that Matt would be a little more confident around his bro. Anyways....I'm really sorry Matthew fans :( Comments, questions, and critiques are very welcome!! Thanks so much for reading, hopefully I can put out a second chapter in a week or two!!!


	2. Chapter 2

Two hours.

It had been two hours since Alfred had finished burying his brother’s body, and he still couldn’t bring himself to move away from him grave. Even with his stomach growling louder than it had the night before. Even with his survival instincts screaming at him to get off his ass.

How could he? The gunshot was still ringing in his ears. His eyes still felt puffy from crying. He could still hear the final words he would ever say to Matthew caressing his ears.

_I_ ' _m sorry, brother._

Digging the grave was probably the easiest part of this whole ordeal. His arms were sore and burning from carrying his brother’s body into a clearing in the trees, but that hadn’t stopped him from furiously digging into the soil. _“Your fault. It’s your fault.”_ his mind told him as he dug. And Alfred believed it.

All he had to do was listen to Matthew and spend the night in the woods. All he had to do was convince Matthew to wear that old, worn leather jacket still at their cabin. He’d complained it was too hot, but it would’ve protected him from against bite marks better than Alfred ever could. Or did.

A droplet of water dripped from Alfred’s chin onto the soft soil, and he wiped his tears away. He didn’t even realize he was crying again. He’d managed to halt his tears long enough to dig a grave, but now that he had nothing left to do but listen to his thoughts, he couldn’t stop himself. He felt pathetic.

After a few more minutes of silence, Alfred turned his head to examine the sky. The sun peeked through the thick trees, shadows of leaves dancing against the grassy field of the clearing. Morning dew was still visible on the long blades of grass and weeds. By the position of the sun, Alfred guessed it was around seven AM. He had to get up and move eventually.

He reached for his back pack, intending to mark this spot on his map. The strong stench of old fish practically assaulted his nostrils as soon as he unzipped it.

“Damn it.” Alfred cursed to himself, although he wasn’t surprised. The fish had probably been stinking up his back pack for a few good hours now. No way they were edible now.

Alfred groaned, throwing the old fish out before retrieving his map and marking the location. He shoved the map back into his pack and rose to his feet. His head immediately started to spin and his eye lids fluttered, and Alfred stumbled a bit while trying to steady himself. Crap, he’d almost forgotten he’d been up all night and he was starving. He had to eat and go back to the cabin, and fast.

Alfred glanced at the grave again. What would Matthew do? Scavenge? Hunt? Fish? Tell Alfred calm down and focus? His heart ached at the thought of his brother, but he pushed those feelings away, at least for now. Now was the time to let his survival instincts take over. He decided to scavenge; hunting and fishing would take too long. But where? The nearest gas station was at least 10 miles out, and it had been picked clean the last time he was there. Hmm…

Aha! Alfred remembered passing an old RV sitting in a small campground on the way to the creek. They hadn’t had time to check the place out. It looked long abandoned, but maybe there was still something there. At least a change of clothes. He pulled out his map again and tried to retrace his steps. His memories were kind of a whirlwind right now, but he managed to find the general area, less than a mile away.

Alfred gave his brother’s grave one last look and found himself wanting to linger there for a little while longer. Going on about his survival meant it was really over, that he would never see Matthew again. That he would be alone. Alfred sucked in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm his already overworked nerves. There was nothing he hated more than being alone. Even before, when his mother was away, at least he had Matthew there to keep him company. Matthew would be there to play video games with him and laugh, even though Alfred knew his brother liked his alone time. Even in the end of civilization itself, they still had each other’s backs, keeping each other safe and continuing to laugh at stupid jokes or memories.

Without that, Alfred couldn’t live anymore. Just survive, and that was just about the loneliest feeling in the world.

Alfred snapped out of his thoughts and realized he’d been walking for a while. He blinked. Shit, did he space out and get lost? He looked at his surroundings and examined his map again. Okay, looks like he had yet to stray off course and the old camp site was close. There had to be something in there that he could eat, his bad luck streak had to end soon! Right?

As he put his map away, his limbs stiffened at the sound of a low growl coming from the thick underbrush to his left. It didn’t sound like a zombie, though.

Shit.

Alfred whipped out his pistol in record time and pointed the sights towards the source of the noise. He weighed the pros and cons. If it was a wolf or coyote or something, he could kill it and eat it, right? Or it would maul him to death and probably eat him. Yikes. He had to be quick if that was the case.

He was about to squeeze the trigger when he heard a twig snap, but faltered as he saw what walked out of the foliage.

It was a dog!

A dog that was baring its yellow teeth at him and raising its hackles while it stalked towards him, but still a dog!

Alfred put his gun away and lowered himself to his knees, trying to get on the same level as the mutt. Poor thing, it was probably just scared. “Shh, lil’ buddy, I won’t hurt ya.”

The dog stopped growling and lifted its head a bit more, but still looked a bit wary of Alfred. He noticed the dog’s ribs and hipbones were protruding in an unnatural way. It must be starving.

“You’ve been out here all alone, huh?” he asked, keeping his tone quiet yet cheerful. He slowly reached out his hand in an attempt to get the mutt to sniff him.

The dog visibly flinched but stepped forward to sniff him, his head low and ears pressed back into his head. Alfred guessed it’d probably been a while since the poor thing had seen a human. The dog sniffed his fingers, then gave them a tentative lick.

Yes!

“See? I’m not so bad!” Alfred grinned. This was sweet, he hadn’t seen a dog in forever! He wondered if he could get the mutt to come back home with him. He’d always wanted a dog! Alfred noticed a bright orange collar loosely wrapped around the mutt’s neck. The name tag read ‘Gunner’.

“Gunner, huh? Cool name!” The dog perked its ears at his name being called, and Alfred saw his tail wag for a moment. He reached out over the mutt’s head to pet him. Gunner cowered away from his hand, his head lowering again. Alfred frowned a bit and drew his hand away. Guess he didn’t like being pet. That was okay. “Soo…got any owners I should know about?”

Gunner tilted his head as if he was trying to comprehend Alfred’s question. He had to admit, it was cute, but he still needed to find food. He remembered the times he said that he was hungry enough to eat a dog and shivered. No way he could do that now! Gunner seemed like a pretty cool dude, and Alfred wasn’t hungry enough (and not sure he’d ever be hungry enough) to start killing innocent dogs!

Alfred stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Well…I know a spot nearby, maybe I can find us both some food, yeah? You hungry?” Gunner perked his ears and wagged his tail in silent agreement.

Great, he was starving. Alfred began walking again, grinning when he noticed the mutt following him. With any luck, they would find some canned goods, maybe even a change of clothes. Alfred’s were still filthy with dried zombie blood and guts. At least it didn’t stink anymore.

As soon as the camper was in sight, Gunner barked and ran towards it. Huh. Alfred started to run as well, the feeling of relief washing over him. For a second there he thought he marked the wrong spot.

The campsite was small, but looked like a decent enough place to sleep, or even live. There was an old rusted grill, a broken tent, a metal garbage can, and that dirty old camper. Alfred also noticed a couple plastic dog bowls sitting next to the door of the camper.

“You live here?” Alfred asked as he picked up one of the dog bowls. The name ‘Gunner’ in capital letters that was painted on the bowl confirmed his suspicions. It looked like both of the bowls had been empty for a while. Hopefully that meant no one would be coming back.

Alfred tossed the bowl back on the ground and stepped into the camper. It was tiny, barely big enough for two people, but still had a small kitchen, breakfast nook, and a mattress at one of the far ends of it. There were empty cans and pieces of fabric strewn across the old tile floor. It seemed like a cozy enough place to stay, even if it needed a little spring cleaning.

He begin digging through the cabinets, throwing more empty cans and old tupperware over his shoulder. Shit, things weren’t looking great. It was starting to look like the whole place was empty. Just as he was about to give up, he saw an unopened can in the very back of the last cabinet. Alfred’s heart skipped a beat and he held his breath. The can looked unscathed, and the label confirmed it was food – canned pears.

If Alfred had enough energy, he would’ve started whooping and hollering on the spot, but the hunger and fatigue had gotten to him.

“Look what I found!” Alfred cheered as he stepped out of the trailer. Gunner lifted his head and wagged his tail again. Dogs could eat pears, right? Its not like the mutt had any other option.

Alfred sat himself down on the log sitting next to the grill, and started stabbing the top of the can with his knife. It was times like this when he wished he had a freaking can opener, he had more than a few scars from cutting his fingers on the tin of a can. Much to Alfred’s delight, the soggy pears weren’t expired. Hell yeah!

He quickly began to scarf down the pears, hardly caring if he cut himself on the metal. Alfred nearly moaned at the feeling of finally being able to eat. He wanted to thank whatever God that would listen to him.

Alfred had finished nearly half the can before he heard whining. Shit, he’d almost forgotten about the poor dog!

“Sorry, bud. You’re probably hungry too, huh? You can have some, but save a little more for me! We’ll find some more food for you later.” he said apologetically. As much as he wanted to eat the remainder of the food, those sad puppy dog eyes were too much for him to bear. Alfred reached out to dump a few pear slices on the ground for the mutt.

But as soon as Alfred reached for him, Gunner swiped the can right out of his hands and proceeded to stick his snout in the can, greedily chomping at its contents like – well, like a rabid dog.

“Hey!” Alfred whined. What the hell?! He was still so hungry! He knew the dog probably was too, but Alfred was seriously on the verge on collapsing, that wasn’t really something that half a can of pears by itself could solve! He stood up and reached out to take back his food, acting on his instincts before his logic could kick in.

As soon as Gunner saw his hand get close, he lurched forward, and all Alfred could feel was his back hitting the ground and blunt teeth digging into the flesh on his left forearm.

Sharp, stabbing pain instantly flared through the length his tanned arm, and Alfred barely held back a scream of agony. Shit, shit, _shit!_ This was bad.

He struggled, desperately trying to pull his arm away and instantly regretting it when the mutt only tightened his hold and violently shook his head, causing fresh blood to drip down his arm and onto his shirt.

Alfred had no idea what to do. He had no idea if this dog intended to maul him to death or give him a warning, but he wasn’t about to just sit here and let it have his way! He struggled more, managing to bend his knee and press the bottom of his boot against the dog’s heaving chest. He could feel the vibrations of growling against the soles of his shoes.

Using whatever strength he could muster, he gave the dog a sharp kick in the sternum.

Alfred felt the flesh of his arm tear and couldn’t hold back his screaming this time, but managed to get the dog off of him. He quickly stood up and grabbed his wounded arm. It was bleeding, badly. He couldn’t look at the wound right now, not with his heart racing and his stomach twisting in a combination of panic and pure fear.

The dog stood up again with him, Alfred’s blood dripping from it’s jaws. Thankfully, it backed away from him.

Alfred started to back away as well, not daring to turn his back on the mutt. He didn’t know if he should be thankful that it wasn’t a zombie bite, or pissed because he couldn’t exactly get a tetanus shot. He settled for both.

Alfred made sure he was far enough away before turning around and sprinting towards his cabin.

Every step he took sent a jolt of pain into his injured arm, but he only gripped it tighter in an attempt to stop the bleeding. This was bad. Really bad. Who knows what kind of diseases that mutt carried? Besides the point, he didn’t have enough medical supplies to maintain the healing process. And Matthew wasn’t there to help him. Shit, if Matthew was still here this probably would’ve never even happened in the first place... That thought made his heart sting. Shit, he couldn’t think about that right now. Run first, think later.

It felt like he’d been running for hours, and his arm felt like it was on fire, but he finally reached the cabin.

As soon as he stepped inside, he grabbed the medical kit from the old bathroom and took a seat at the dinner table. Thankfully, with the pressure from his hand, it looked like the bleeding had stopped. Alfred breathed out a sigh of relief. That was one less thing to worry about, at least.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand from his injured arm and began to examine the bite.

There were a few puncture wounds on the inside of his forearm, but they didn’t look too deep. With a little luck, those would be healed in a couple weeks. Alfred sighed a second time. Okay. It didn’t look that bad so far, maybe he was just over reacting.

He turned over his arm and the sight on the opposite side almost made him dry heave. Almost. Along with a few more puncture wounds, there was a long, four inch gash across his outer arm, and it was deep. An open wound like that was begging to get infected if he didn’t do anything. It was definitely going to need stitches, and fast.

Crap, it had been at least a year since he sutured a wound. The results weren’t great, and that was suturing someone _else’s_ wound.

Alfred sighed, feeling his eyebrows knit together. He needed to focus and just get this over with. First, he needed to clean the wound. He dug around in his back pack and pulled out his canteen.

Empty.

“Damn it...” He’d forgotten he gave the rest of the water in his canteen to Matthew. Fortunately, they’d picked up a case of bottled water on a run a few weeks back, there were at least six bottles left.

He hunched over the sink and began to pour water over his arm, watching the dirt and blood wash away from his wounds. The water stung, but alleviated some of the heat radiating from the from the laceration.

After using two bottles of water, Alfred deemed the wound to be clean enough. He couldn’t see any more dirt, at least. He retreated back to the table and opened the first aid kit. His eyes caught the small bottle of rubbing alcohol first. Hmm. He’d read in one of those old survival guides that using rubbing alcohol for large cuts or puncture wounds would slow the healing process, so he decided to opt out of that. He grabbed a small sewing needle and cotton thread instead.

It took him about a minute and a half to thread the needle. Ha, thank god no one was watching.

Alfred took a deep breath, and lined up the needle with his wound. “Now for the shitty part...”

He began to suture his own arm, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. A lot. Thankfully, the edges of the laceration were a little numb, but it still hurt like a bitch. Alfred found himself pausing to clench his fist after every stitch he did.

He let out a massive sigh of relief when he completed the final suture and cut the thread. He let his body finally relax. Alfred had to admit, it looked a little sloppy, but at least it was closed. In his defense, his hand was shaking the entire time and no one said it would be easy to stitch your own wound, at least not without a shit ton of practice. Matthew was the last person he did stitches on.

Matthew…

It didn’t seem real yet. It was like Alfred was still waiting to see his brother come out of his room and ask him about his day, like nothing bad had ever happened, like he wasn’t dead. Alfred was hurting, more hurt than a silly dog bite or zombie bite could ever inflict, and the grief of losing his brother hit him like a ton of bricks as soon he was alone with his thoughts. He could still see the terrified look in his eyes, he could still feel Matthew’s shaking hands gripping onto the back of his jacket for dear life.

It could’ve easily been Alfred. He thought maybe it should’ve been him. Less than half a day without his brother and he was already screwing up again…

Alfred wiped fresh tears away from his cheeks. Dammit, he knew he shouldn’t sit here and wallow in self pity, but what else was there to do? He was completely alone now. His only hope was traveling, maybe he would get lucky and find a settlement. He couldn’t stay here. Every time he came through the front door he would be reminded of Matthew. This cabin would never be Alfred’s, and his alone. The way he saw it, it belonged to both of them.

Again, Alfred pushed those thoughts away. He had to think about something else or he would drive himself crazy. He glanced at the first aid kit. He should put antibiotic cream on the punctures, but he’d ran out of that a while ago. Maybe wrapping it would suffice, for now. Alfred reached for the gauze, but stopped his movements.

He thought he heard the rumbling of a car engine.

Alfred strained his ears, not moving a muscle. It was definitely a car engine, and it was getting closer.

He shot up from his chair and ran to the nearest window. The noise got louder and louder until Alfred finally saw a dirty SUV park right in front of the cabin.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Alfred said aloud. Could he catch a fucking break? Seriously! He’d lived in this cabin for so long, and not _once_ had they been approached by anyone! This had to be the shittiest day ever.

He watched as three men stepped out of the car. He noticed they were all armed to the teeth and immediately ducked down. Oh, shit, he was about to get robbed, and probably killed. He knew how survivors thought these days. With his loud mouth, Alfred was lucky he hadn’t been gunned down yet. Again, there weren’t a lot of people out here to do so.

Okay, he didn’t have a lot of options here. Seriously, what would Matthew do? He could either try to escape, (and probably get shot) or hide (and probably get shot). Alfred decided to hide. Maybe he could surprise them. He still had a few rounds in his pistol. He could catch them off guard. They wouldn’t risk one of them getting killed to shoot one guy with a pistol, right? It seemed like the best bet at this point.

Alfred took out his pistol and made his way to hide behind the end of the kitchen cabinets. That way he could jump out. And hopefully not get shot doing so.

He heard the slow creak of the front door opening, and footsteps. Looks like they were trying to be sneaky. Fat chance, those damn floor boards were loud as hell. It was impossible to sneak around here. Alfred heard the footsteps get closer, and he gripped his pistol tighter. Okay, he could do this, he had to do this.

When the footsteps became unbearably loud, Alfred jumped out from his hiding place and pointed his gun. “Don’t move!” He tried to sound tough, but felt his cheeks heat up when he realized his voice cracked a little bit.

Alfred was met with the barrels of three massive assault rifles, pointing right at his head. Jeez.

The first of the men was bald with a fluffy brown beard, the second was older, with gray hair and reading glasses. The third, standing at the forefront, caught his eye the most.

He had messy blond hair, a bit lighter than Alfred’s, probably the biggest eyebrows he’d ever seen, and sharp green eyes. Well, eye...he had an eye patch on his right eye. An _eye patch._ Was he getting robbed by pirates?

But more than anything, Alfred noticed they were clean. Too clean to be scavengers.

Alfred blinked, obviously caught off guard. “Get out or I’ll shoot.” he managed to say.

“I wouldn’t, boy.” Eye patch said, his good eye narrowing. Was that an accent he heard? “Put the gun down, we’re not here to hurt you.”

Alfred held back a laugh. Seriously? They break in here with fucking assault rifles and expect him to believe that? “...What do you want?”

“Put down the weapon and I’ll tell you.”

Alfred stood his ground.

“C’mon, boss, just shoot the kid.” Beardy complained.

“Quiet.” Eye patch snapped before turning his attention back to Alfred. “My patience is wearing, put down the gun or we’ll be forced to open fire.”

Alfred chewed his lip. Either way, it looked like this was it. He was probably going to die unceremoniously while these dudes looted his corpse and took his stuff. Against his better judgment, Alfred knelt down and carefully placed his gun on the ground before scooting it away with his foot. He refused to put up his hands, however. No way he was making himself even more defenseless.

Eye patch lowered his rifle, but his colleagues still trained theirs on Alfred’s head. Great.

“Good lad.” he praised, a smirk playing on his lips. Smug bastard. “My name is Arthur Kirkland. We’ve come from a settlement not far from here.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow at that, barely hiding his intrigue. A settlement? “Where?”

Arthur’s lips formed a tight line. He looked Alfred up and down, like he was sizing him up or something, before he answered. “Bedford.”

Bedford...where was that again? Alfred turned his head to look at his back pack where his map was stored away. Grabbing that probably wouldn’t be the best idea, with the big guns pointed at him and all.

The sound of Arthur clearing his throat made Alfred turn his attention back towards the men.

“Enough small talk, then.” Arthur said. He began to walk around the kitchen, his movements slow and deliberate. The sound of his combat boots pressing against the weak wooden floors made Alfred shiver. “We’ve been through this area several times. You’re the first survivor we’ve come across. I’m willing to offer you refuge in our community, but not before I’m certain you won’t cause trouble.”

“Trouble?” Alfred asked, keeping a close eye on him.

Arthur was stifling through the cabinets and drawers in his kitchen. Alfred wanted to say something, but held his tongue. Even he could tell the situation was delicate.

“Have you lived in a community before?”

“Um, not really. There was this one town I passed through a few times to trade, but I moved on.”

“Have you killed anyone before?”

Hello, left field! Jeez, Alfred wasn’t really expecting a question like that. Should he lie? No, that was risky, he’d been told by several people before that he sucked at lying.

“...Yes.”

Arthur stopped his snooping to give him an expression that Alfred could’ve sworn was surprise, but he hid the expression quickly. Was it really that shocking? Hell, it would’ve been weirder if he said ‘no’.

“Why?”

Alfred looked down at his feet. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk about this, especially not with strangers who were more or less holding him hostage. “Mercy.”

Realization dawned on Arthur’s face and he frowned. “I’m sorry. I understand how you feel.”

Alfred avoided his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck. Nice words, even if they might’ve been fake.

Arthur sighed after a few moments of silence, seeming to realize Alfred wasn’t about to say anything else on the subject. “Listen, I kn-”

Before he could finish, Beardy suddenly stepped forward, aiming his rifle at Alfred with renewed vigor. “Holy _fuck_ , he’s been bit!”

What?

Oh, crap. The dog bite.

Arthur’s eye focused on the bite on Alfred’s arm and he immediately grabbed his rifle again. So much for understanding!

Alfred impulsively took a step back and hid his wound. God damn it, could anything be easy? “W-Wait, don’t shoot! It’s a dog bite, swear to God!”

Arthur stomped towards him and grabbed his wrist before yanking it towards him to expose the wound. Ouch! The dude was stronger than he looked. He studied it, eye traveling over the sutured laceration on his outer arm. He released his hold after a few moments.

“...How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“I...um,” Alfred’s brain was scrambling to find a reason. “The stitches! Why would I stitch a zombie bite?”

The shorter man’s eye narrowed at Alfred, making the younger man swallow nervously. He couldn’t help but feel intimidated, and it showed. The staring contest went on for a few moments more before Arthur sighed and turned back to his men.

“We can take him back and put him in a cell. If he has a fever by tonight, we’ll know he’s lying.”

What the hell?! They couldn’t kidnap and imprison him!

“You can’t be serious.” the gray haired man scoffed. “You want us to risk our lives over some kid?”

Arthur scoffed. “If it means he won’t follow us back to cause trouble, then yes.”

Alfred began to panic, for probably the millionth time today. Who even were these guys? They talked about kidnapping and imprisoning him like they were talking about the damn weather! Wherever they were set up, Alfred wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He needed to get out of this situation, and fast.

He glanced at the front door. No, he would get a bullet in his back before he even made it outside. The kitchen window was painted shut, he wouldn’t be able to get through there either, if he was even able to fit through in the first place…

Shit, this whole ‘surviving alone’ thing was hard. Alfred could kill zombies in his sleep by this point, but was still terrible at thinking on his feet, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it. With Matthew by his side, he didn’t have to.

Alfred was pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps walking towards him. It was Arthur. He was holding a pair of handcuffs.

“Woah, woah, hold on.” Alfred held up his hands and instinctively backed away. “Who says I’m even going with you?”

Arthur glared. “You can either comply and come with us, or die. The choice is yours.”

Alfred couldn’t hide his fear. He felt his knees buckle and he chewed his lip. He wanted to be strong, he really did, but he felt entirely too vulnerable right now.

Arthur softened his gaze, seeming to notice Alfred’s discomfort. “You should understand, it’s nothing personal. Our community was attacked not long ago.”

Alfred was surprised by that, but failed to be sympathetic. That wasn’t an excuse to cuff him and put him in a cage like a dog! “That sucks, dude. Really. But I ain’t leaving.”

Alfred yelped when Beardy stomped over and grabbed his arm. Hard. Arthur looked surprised, but didn’t make a move to stop him. “Trust me, kid. This is the best offer yer gonna get.” Beardy growled.

Alfred grit his teeth and tried to yank his arm away, but was surprised when he couldn’t. Either Beardy was a superhuman or Alfred was getting weak from hunger, sleep deprivation, and his wounds. Still, Alfred wasn’t about to give up. He would rather die here than in a cage, he told himself.

Gathering his strength, Alfred drew his free arm back before punching the bearded man square in the jaw. Beardy released his grip and stumbled back. Success!

But before Alfred could protect himself, Beardy kicked out his knee, making him lose his balance and fall stomach first onto the floor. Ouch, maybe he celebrated too soon…

He tried to get up again, but felt a boot on his back, shoving him back on the floor. Alfred _‘oof’_ ed as his chest hit the ground again.

“What're you waiting for?! Shoot the little shit!” Beardy demanded, the sole of his boot digging further into Alfred’s shoulder blades. That was definitely gonna leave a bruise. It he lived, that is.

“Fucking hell.” Arthur groaned. Alfred heard the familiar sound of of a gun’s safety being taken off. “Sorry about this, lad.”

Alfred tilted his head up from the floor, teeth grit as he struggled to breath with the weight on his back. Arthur was pointing a rifle at his head. Again. _Fuck._

“Wait! Don’t!” He started to beg as a last resort.

The last thing Alfred saw was the rear end of Arthur’s rifle descending towards his skull – then his whole world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put Alfred thru a lot in this one. Oops. Anyways, who else loves post apocalyptic Arthur with an eye patch? I think I do. I re read this and realized there were hardly any breaks, sorry about that, I had a lot of stuff to get thru lol. This was kinda tough to write. Its esp hard for me since I have dyslexia, but that won't stop me from trying!! Anyways, thanks so much for reading! Comments, critiques, and suggestions are very much appreciated!


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